


After The Storm

by Astronomic



Category: Red Queen Series - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: Epilogue, F/M, Rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27686791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astronomic/pseuds/Astronomic
Summary: The war is over, the storm is passed, and it's time to turn to a new future
Relationships: Mare Barrow/Tiberias "Cal" Calore VII, Marecal - Relationship
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	After The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to rewrite War Storm's epilogue. I made a few changes here and there, including my AU where Cal never took the crown and the final fight was against Maven. Hope y'all like it~

I rolled my sleeves up to my elbows, the muggy air of the harbour already humid in the late morning. I could feel the sweat starting to stick my shirt to my back, and strands of hair to the base of my neck. I absently wondered if the purple dye in the tips of my hair might start to run with the humidity. I don’t know, I’ve never dyed my hair before.

I took in a deep breath regardless, letting the dense, salty ocean air wash over me for a moment, drowning out the commotion around me. Fort Patriot was buzzing with activity; construction transports and workers bustling around like bees in a hive. They were still clearing the damage from the siege on Harbour Bay before reconstruction could begin. It’s hard to believe the attack was a little under a month ago. So many things seemed to happen in such a short amount of time, I could hardly keep up. I couldn’t even remember what I had for breakfast this morning.

_ There will be things I’m doomed to remember though _ , I think. Despite my best efforts, I stole a glance to my left. From where I stood on Fort Patriot’s runway, I could see the glittering spires of Ocean Hill, jewel of Harbour Bay. It was gorgeous, a sight to behold in any regard; the twinkling diamondglass refracting sunlight and ocean spray carried high on the wind. I could even make out a faint rainbow against the clear blue sky. But that’s not what I saw. Every time I looked at those wretched crystal towers, I could only picture pale skin, lifeless bronze eyes, blue lips, and cold. Unnatural cold. A chill crawled down my spine in spite of the heat, my stomach twisting in knots. Ocean Hill  _ was _ beautiful, but I couldn’t bear to look at it anymore. There were nothing but nightmares attached to it.

Wrenching my gaze away, I turned my focus down the tarmac, where two Blackruns and a crowd were idling by. The last flights to Montfort, the final steps between me and home, my family, and my new life. It seemed so surreal. Every time I boarded one before, I was off to a battle of some kind. This would be my first time being able to sit back and enjoy the flight, where I wasn’t rushing off into some kind of uncertainty. The feeling was nice, if not a little foreign.

Julien was the first to greet me when I finally reached the group, a smile cracking over his face, arms raised. I stepped into his embrace without hesitation. Though he was thin, frail in his age, his arms were strong as he hugged me, filling me with a comfort I didn’t know I needed until now. I found my hands gripping the back of his shirt, suddenly unwilling to leave.

“Oh, Mare,” his voice was gentle, “Hush now. I’ll be seeing you in a month’s time.”

“I know, but still,” I tried not to whimper, “I don’t know if I want to go.”

“Nonsense. We both know your life has moved past these borders. You’ve served Norta well, but now you need to be with your family.”

“I’m gonna miss you.” The growing lump in my throat was a bad sign. Julien was right, but I was suddenly hit by the things, and the  _ people _ , I’d be leaving behind. If I was starting to get emotional saying goodbye to Julian…

“Mare!” Farley’s voice broke me from my thoughts, and I stepped out of Julien’s embrace to find her. She was standing on the bottom of the Blackrun ramp, that familiar, determined expression set on her face. “We’re taking off soon, you gotta hurry up.”

My heart leapt into my throat, and my eyes flitted through the crowd, searching for the one person who was decidedly absent.  _ Where the hell is he? _ My gaze, instead, landed on the few Silver ex-nobles who, for some reason, decided to join Julien on seeing us off, despite clearly not wanting to be here. Most notably, no-longer-Her Majesty the Queen, Anabel Lerolan. She glared at me, orange eyes boring down, like she was imagining different ways to make my head explode. I gave her a curt nod, making sure to stay out of her reach.

Her glare twisted into a snarl, “Is that it then? The  _ shining hero _ of Norta flees to another country, leaving others to pick up your mess?” Her eyes flickered over to her left, somewhere beyond the crowd. I followed her gaze, warmth blooming in my chest when I found what she was looking at.  _ There you are. _ Anabel scoffed at the smile growing on my face, “Typical.”

“What’s typical, Lerolan?” my head snapped back to her. I revelled in the look on her face as I called her only by her last name. After many years as a Queen, the sudden informality was still offensive to her.  _ Good _ .

“Typical of Reds to slack off when the job is half done. Norta will be a disaster if left in the hands of you lot.”

“It couldn’t get any worse than the way it was before,” I fired back.

Anabel took a step forward, her palm twitching at her side like she wanted to lash out and grab me, “What are you implying, girl?”

“Nothing,” Julien cut in, potentially saving my life, “Now get along and finish your goodbyes. General Farley will not stand to wait much longer.”

Though I tried to appear calm, I scurried away from the crowd, desperate to get away from the aggravated old Queen and her explosive touch. My feet carried me closer to the second Blackrun, which was scheduled to depart much later with a load of cargo. And standing under the tip of its wings, just barely covered in its shadow, was Cal. His back was to me, his broad shoulders straining against his white collared shirt. Like me, his sleeves were rolled up, seeking some reprieve from the humid air. I stared at the back of his head as I approached, silently willing him to turn around so I wouldn’t have to face him first. He stayed put, stubborn as always.

Sucking in a breath, I stopped beside him, entering his circle of heat. It should’ve made me uncomfortable in the sluggish spring morning, but Cal’s warmth was always soothing to me. I turned my attention to where he was looking; somewhere far off in the distant forest, beyond Fort Patriot, the runway, the jets, the people. Away from all this. If I looked at him, I knew what I’d find; molten eyes looking but not seeing, lips pressed into a line, and the sad, contemplative expression of a former Prince who lost everything in his life, and was about to let slip the one thing he managed to hold on to. That’s why I couldn’t look at his face, not yet. Even just standing beside him caused the emotion to tighten in my throat.

“So here we are,” I said quietly, staring out at the tree line.

“Here we are,” he hummed.

I shuffled, feeling awkward in the silence, “It’s crazy. I never thought we’d see the end of it. I kind of don’t know what to do now, you know, with all this downtime.”

Cal didn’t respond. He stayed quiet for a long moment, standing so still, unblinking, that for a second I thought he turned to stone. “They’re going to tear it down,” he said finally. His voice was deep, thick with exhaustion.

I frowned, “Tear what down?”

“Ocean Hill.”

His answer took me off guard, and my gaze snapped to his face, forgetting myself for a moment. He looked much sadder than I was prepared for, and it broke my heart. “What? Why?”

“They will be tearing down all royal landmarks across the country. Ocean Hill, The Hall of the Sun, Whitefire Palace, et cetera. Any statue or plaza as well. Anything symbolizing the Calore name and the royal bloodline.”

It dawned on me now, how truly lonely he was. He was going to be the only thing left in the Calore legacy, and it will die with him. My fingers gently brushed his wrist, the touch paining me as much as it comforted me. Before I could take his hand, he drew it away, folding his arms across his chest, and staring down at his feet.

“I thought they could at least leave Ocean Hill to me, for Julien, for my mother. But they asked how I was going to pay for it, and apparently I’m broke now, so.”

“Cal,” I whispered, the only thing I could say.

“It’s alright. I just need time to adjust. We all do.” He was talking about Silvers, noble and common alike. But he also meant me, the newbloods in Montfort, the Reds here in Norta, the country itself, now balancing on the edge of economic collapse.

“I’m sorry.” For what I don’t know. A million things. Too many to count. Upending his life, betraying him, using him, forcing him into a revolution that wasn’t his, burning his country to the ground, killing his friends. Killing his brother. Maven’s death hurt me in ways it shouldn’t, a part of me still holding on to the fake Maven, the one who was never real. But I had known that Maven for barely two months; Cal was there when his brother was born. Seventeen years of memories, and there was a time when it was real. When they both loved each other as brothers should, before Elara wormed her way in. There was no telling when the real ended and the fake began, and that uncertainty must be killing him.

Cal glanced up at me then. His eyes were so sad, swimming with a hundred emotions. More and more I found myself not wanting to leave.

“There is nothing to apologize for, Mare,” his tone was unconvincing.

Instead of responding, I stepped around to face him, raising my arms to wrap around his neck. He stumbled out of my reach before I could, his eyes shut tight with a pained expression on his face. My stomach flipped. Cal didn’t let me hold his hand, and now he wouldn’t even let me hug him.  _ Why? What did I do? Doesn’t he know I’m leaving? Does he hate me that much? _

“Why are you avoiding me?” I asked, feeling tears prick my eyes. This is the last thing I needed right now.

He took in a ragged breath, like he was also trying to keep from crying, “Because if you get too close I don’t know if I’ll let you go.”

The relief that flooded through me almost made me dizzy, and the welling tears spilled over. “You’re such an idiot, Cal.” I sniffed, and tugged at his arms to uncross them. Cal was much stronger than me, but even so he relented, and pulled me into a tight embrace. 

His heat surrounded me, the smell of fire and warm skin. He pressed his face to the side of my head, his fingers twisting in the material of my shirt. He clung to me like I clung to him, grounding each other. I could feel him tremble in my arms, his breathing short and hitched. Cal was scared and heartbroken, just like me.

I let my hand trail gently up the back of his neck, smoothing over his close cut black hair. Someone with talent finally evened out his jagged locks, but now his hair was so short I couldn’t run my fingers through it. Even something as simple as that was long gone.

“I’d come with you if I could,” he whispered in my ear.

“I know,” I nodded, closing my eyes, “But you’re needed here.”

“Can’t you stay with me, then?”

_ Stay with me, _ he asked. A selfish request. But after all he’s been through, he was allowed one - even if I couldn’t give it to him. “You know I can’t, Cal. I have to be with my family. I haven't properly spent time with them. And I have to get away from Norta. I have to heal.  _ We _ have to heal from all this.”

“I don’t want to do it alone.”

“But you have to,” I said sadly. “Everything’s changed so much, you’ve gotta figure out who you are now. Now that the throne’s gone.”

He froze. The reminder was painful, but necessary. “Why does that matter now? I’m noth-”

“Don’t say ‘nothing’,” I cut him off, “You’re not nothing, you know that. You’re the hero of Norta, the face of the revolution. You’re helping Reds and Silvers find equality.”

“That was all you, Mare.”

“No,” I pulled away enough to look him in the eyes, cupping his face in my hands. His eyes were wet, the silver bloodshot veins almost making the white’s of his eyes glow as he tried not to cry. The last time Cal cried openly, he was swinging a sword towards his father’s head. “It was  _ you _ , Cal.  _ You _ helped arrange the Corros Prison break,  _ you _ led the attack on Corvium,  _ you _ led the siege on Harbour Bay,  _ you _ convinced the Houses to fight with us against Maven,  _ you _ trained the Red recruits and the newbloods. And now, Representative-Ambassador General Calore,” he smiled, laughing weakly at his ridiculous new title, “You’re going to help put Norta back together.”

Cal shook his head absently, his eyes tracing my face. His gaze landed on my ear, his thumb brushing over the fiery orange stone. I had finally put in the earring he’d given to me, but instead of adding it to the line, I pierced the lobe on my other ear. Because he was different from my brothers and Kilorn. They were family, Cal was something else. Just as deep, just as meaningful, but so incredibly different.

“How long?” he asked quietly.

“However long it takes.” I gave him the truth. Out of everyone, he deserved it the most. I brushed my fingers over his cropped hair, the short strands tickling my fingertips, “I wish you’d let it grow again. Like when I first met you,” I mused quietly.

“Long hair is not fit for war.”

“You’re not at war anymore.”

“For the time being. There’s still negotiations with The Lakelands and Piedmont, not to mention the other Kingdoms further out west. If none of those go over well we’ll be at war again.”

I took his face in my hands again, forcing him to look at me. “Stop. It’ll be fine. You know the most about monarchy and lawmaking, you’ll be able to guide the rest of the council into dealing with them. And if not, you have the rest of Norta and Montfort at your side.”

“I don’t want you returning here just to fight another war,” he frowned, his commanding, princely air returning to him.

I rolled my eyes, “I’ll do what I want, Cal.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

The engines of the Blackrun roared to life behind us, a sign that it was time to go. True to his word, Cal tightened his arms around me, not willing to let me go. He turned to glare back at the jet, like he could melt the metal with his eyes. My own heart ached, not ready to leave his warm embrace. But it was time.

“I have to go,” I said, curling my arms around his neck for one last hug.

He whipped his gaze back to me, bronze eyes imploring me to stay, to change my mind. It almost worked. Almost.

“I’m going to miss you, Mare,” he managed to say, leaning in to press his forehead against mine.

“I’m going to miss you too, Cal,” my voice broke despite my best efforts, a fresh round of tears starting to well. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

He looked so offended at the thought, I thought I might burst into flame for even suggesting. Instead, his hand cupped the back of my neck, and he pressed his lips to mine. Our kiss was hard, desperate, clutching each other like it was the last thing keeping us on Earth. I don’t know how long it lasted, but it wasn’t long enough. There would never be enough time to be ready to leave him.

“I’ll be waiting right here when you return,” he whispered against my lips, a promise he had no intention of breaking.

“You’d better be,” I smiled, and leaned in to press one more soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

***

Six months later, I sat at the kitchen table with my father and Gisa, while my mother and Tramy bustled around the kitchen getting breakfast ready. Gisa and I were fighting over the last few grapes in the bowl while my father watched on, a grin etched into his grizzled face. Since we all settled down in Montfort, I don’t think that smile left his lips. My whole family adjusted beautifully to our new life, but then again, almost everything was better than our rickety shack in that muddy little village. Our house was big, spacious, three stories tall with a room for everyone. Mom and dad were able to settle in, happily retired, while Gisa, Bree, and Tramy all found jobs with good hours and good pay. Gisa worked in a tailor shop, fixing and customizing clothing for Montfort elites, while Bree and Tramy worked as drill sergeants in the military with me.

But while they were training Reds, I was training newbloods. I was shocked how many there were, it felt like we discovered a new ability every day. Reds and newbloods were still streaming in from the neighbouring countries, while the ones further East flew to Norta. From what I knew, other Silver monarchs weren’t willing to relinquish their crowns, but Davidson didn’t tell me much else. It wasn’t going to be my concern until a surrender or a declaration of war came across the table. It was mildly infuriating, not knowing anything. I had a feeling Davidson spread the word, because neither Farley nor Julien would tell me anything. Not even Cal.

As if on cue, Bree burst through the front door, a collection of envelopes in his hand, “Mail!” he called out, a wicked grin on his face. The faces of my family matched his smile, all pausing what they were doing to listen in. They were making fun of me. How I pounced on every letter we got to see if it was from a certain ex-Prince of Fire. I grit my teeth and put on the calmest face I could muster; I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

Bree made a show of shuffling through the letters, flipping through them slowly as he read them off with his fresh new reading skills. “Bills… Bills… A memo… Ooh, an ad for a new restaurant opening down the street,” he said dramatically, waving the paper around for everyone to see. 

“I’ve heard about that one,” Gisa joined in, popping the last grape in her mouth, “It’s supposed to be Nortan inspired cuisine.”

“We should all go as a family once it opens!” my mother piped up.

“I agree,” said Tramy, a stupid grin on his face, “We haven’t had a taste of Norta in a while.”

“Was that all, Bree?” my father asked.

“Seems like it. Oh wait, it looks like I missed one.”

My head snapped up, anticipation rising in my chest again, “From who?”

He held the letter up to the light, exaggeratedly squinting at the paper, “It looks to be from a one… Representative-Ambassador General Calore?”

The words were barely out of his mouth when I lunged up from my chair and snatched the envelope out of his hand. It had been a month and a half since I had last received a letter from Cal, and I made sure to send a few choice words Bree’s way for making me wait. My family laughed, but didn’t stop me as I stepped away from the kitchen, lightly tracing over my name written in Cal’s immaculate handwriting. His annoying title and name was stamped in black in the top left corner, with the symbol of Norta in red directly below it. Black and red, the Calore colours. It was his little way of holding on to his past, and the dynasty he left behind.

I tore open the envelope once I reached my room on the third floor, sitting on the edge of my bed, and smoothing open the letter. A silver tetrarch fell out onto my lap, the coin glinting in the morning light. I brushed my thumb over the surface, over the face of King Tiberias Calore the Sixth; a face I haven’t seen since it was detached from his body. It had been so long since I had thought of the fallen king, I was surprised by the pang of sadness in my chest, remembering that awful night.

I turned to the letter, soaking in every word:

__

_Mare,_

_ Look what I found the other day. It was stashed away in a pile of my old clothing. I had finally gotten around to sorting through all of it, throwing out any kind of royal regalia, though they let me keep my ceremonial jacket. The one I wore during Queenstrial, if you can remember. Anyway, I found it in an old coin purse. I kept two, one for you and one for myself - the rest was sent away to be melted and re-minted into our new currency.  _

_ It was a shock to see his face again, even on an old coin. I miss him terribly, though I can’t really share those thoughts around here. I know how you felt about my father, but I hope you’ll at least understand. I wish you were with me when I found it. _

I pursed my lips, squeezing the coin tightly in my palm. Between his letters and what Julien tells me, Cal seemed to be adjusting fine to new life in Norta, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his moments; things that reminded him of Maven, of his father, of his old life and all the chaos that followed. If none of that ever happened, he’d be married to Evangeline by now, preparing his last few years of princedom before being crowned king. I know he thinks about that from time to time, and I know there’s a part of him that still wishes for his old life. I can’t begrudge him too much, but then again, if everything had stayed the same, I’d be in the Choke with Kilorn, fighting in a useless, never-ending war.

The rest of his letter was filled with whatever boring politics he was allowed to tell me, nothing that I hadn’t already heard before. The other Kingdoms are stubborn and unrelenting, but apparently they’ve agreed to stop murdering Reds caught fleeing across Montfort and Nortan borders. Which was definitely a Silver’s idea of a compromise, as Cal put it. I could picture him rolling his eyes as he wrote, embarrassed by his bloodkin.

_ Winter will be setting in soon, and they’ll be reducing the amount of flights between Norta and Montfort. I will still write to you, but it won’t be as often. Please come back soon. _

_ Give your family my best, and say hello to Farley and Clara for me.  _

_ I hope to hear from you soon. _

_ Love, _

_ Cal _

Gently, I re-folded the letter, and tucked it away in the second drawer of my bedside table, where I stored the rest of my letters from him. My chest ached at the thought of not hearing from him as often, I was already losing my mind with how long it took to get this one.

Sitting back on my bed I glanced around my room. It was the only one on the third floor, with a peaked roof and triangular window. It was cozy, private, spacious… and lonely. Six months with my family in Montfort had been a dream, but the honeymoon phase was beginning to fade, and I realized it was incomplete without two people. One, I will never get back, his body buried on a long forgotten island far away from here. The other was alive, ready and waiting, in the only other free country on the continent.  _ I miss him. I want to see him again.  _

With fresh resolve, I moved to my desk and pulled out a pen and a fresh piece of paper, to write a letter and a promise. A promise to return to Norta when the snow clears and spring comes again.

***

I pressed my face to the cold glass, straining against my buckles to soak in the view of Fort Patriot’s fast approaching runway. It had been an entire year since I last saw it, and the sight was impressive. It was freshly paved and repainted, the white lines contrasting brightly against the black tarmac. The grass was greener too, and the forest line crept closer than before, effectively hiding the runway until we were almost on top of it. It looked neater, trimmer,  _ newer _ . Like a country that cared for itself.

As the plane descended, I found myself uselessly searching the ground, as if anyone would be stupid enough to be standing near where a jet was landing. The Blackrun touched down with a resounding thud, and my hands were already working to unfasten the buckles before it had even stopped moving. It won me some strange looks from my travel companions, a handful of military officers and political dignitaries who were here on business. Farley just rolled her eyes, and made sure my ass stayed in my seat until the Blackrun came to a full stop.

The ramp lowered agonizingly slow, revealing damp air and pavement at a snail's pace. There were people lined up on the ground outside, Red and Silver alike, all members of Norta’s new political council. Julien was there, of course, accompanied by Sara, their warm smiles sending waves of emotion through me. I recognized some members of the former Silver houses, but I couldn’t place their names without their colours. And there,  _ finally _ , at the end of the line, slightly separated from the group, was Cal, standing exactly where he said he’d be.

He wore his Ambassador regalia; a mahogany red high-collar military jacket, with polished silver buttons and silver piping across his shoulders and down his arms. Red and Silver, the colours of Norta. His general’s medals glinted in the sunlight, pinned neatly in two rows across his left breast. He stood on ceremony, shoulders straight, with his hands clasped behind his back. Though he wore the same uniform as the other Nortan councillors, Cal stood out. He looked like a prince, like a  _ king _ , even. No matter how many palaces they tore down, no matter how many crowns they destroyed, and portraits they burned, there was no erasing the royalty from his blood. No one could take that from him.

He smiled when he saw me, a full smile that stretched across his face and crinkled his eyes, and that did it for me. I don’t remember running, but the next thing I knew, my feet were slapping against the tarmac, faces rushing past me in a blur. And then Cal’s arms were around me, sweeping my feet off the ground in a solid, bone-crushing hug. His warmth encompassed me again for the first time in a year, and I realized how cold I had felt without it. My arms circled his neck, my legs locked around his waist, dimly aware of the people behind us, probably trying not to look.

Then I was grabbing his face, and kissing him like a woman starved. He returned the kiss with equal hunger, letting out a year’s worth of want and emotion. My feet touched the ground at some point, but I still clung to him for dear life, my fingers tangling in his long, thick locks.  _ He let his hair grow _ .

Cal broke the kiss first, but kept his face close to mine, breathing hard, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you too. I’m sorry I left.”

“Don’t apologize. You were right, it was for the best.”

I nodded, “I know.”

He laughed, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the sound. “Good to know some things haven’t changed.”

He kissed me again, softer, sweeter, his thumb grazing over my cheek. I wanted this moment to last forever, but someone behind us cleared their throat, and I was reminded that it wasn’t just me on a visit. As much as I was here to see Cal, so were the other political leaders.

With a quiet groan, Cal pulled away, “Later,” he whispered with a wink, and straightened to face the rest of our company. His arm snaked around my waist, pressing me to his side. I had to resist the urge to rest my head against his arm.

Julien stood between us and the crowd, trying his best not to smile too wide, “I know it’s been a while since some of us have seen each other, but before we catch up, I think a tour is in order?”

“Yes, of course,” Cal said with a grin, “Council of Montfort, General Farley, Mare,” he turned his gaze to me for a moment again, with a smile that melted my heart. With a sweep of his arm he gestured down the runway, towards the walls of Fort Patriot, to the distant town of Harbour Bay, and beyond even that, to a country rebuilt through blood and rebellion.

“Welcome to the Free States of Norta.”


End file.
